


Taking Care Of Virgil

by NinjaWolfBaby



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Dissociation, Exhaustion, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Virgil gets a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 15:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17748578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaWolfBaby/pseuds/NinjaWolfBaby
Summary: Virgil has been overworking himself.Shameless fluff.





	Taking Care Of Virgil

Taking care of Virgil.

Sometimes everything was _too much._ Too much noise, too many colors, too many sensations against Thomas's skin. The cotton of his shirt, denim on his legs, his right sock rotated _just_ enough the seam digs uncomfortably into the pad of his toes. His hair isn't sitting right, there's too many people, not enough exits or hidden corners. And the eye contact… just considering it sends a shiver of misery up their spine. 

Normally, Virgil doesn't get this much physical feedback from Thomas, but they're at a party. A good one, maybe, depending on who was asking. But still, it's a lot of people in a small space, and that's entirely too much to ask the anxious boy to handle all by himself. Because he was all alone. Logic-- Logan, had left when a bottle of some kind of alcohol was pushed into his hand, and Virgil had _made_ ~~(it was his fault, his fault, HIS _FAULT--)_ ~~Thomas too anxious to refuse, and they'd started sipping at the beverage when Patton was too exhausted from all the different _feelings_ this day had invoked, and Sir Sings A Lot was alternating between eagerly conducting new and wild ideas, now that Logan was away, and cringing as Thomas does something they're _all_ gonna regret in the morning. 

Virgil had been… slightly over active for the past couple weeks. Things had been _happening_. Happening everywhere with no space to collect himself between the frantic pushes to ensure Thomas was well prepared for all the good-- if somewhat scary-- things coming for him. He's exhausted, and that makes it… hard. It's harder to ensure his worries don't affect Thomas negatively, and it's nearly impossible to get any sleep during the meantime, leaving the anxious side strung out and jittery. He should talk to the others, ask for help, but… It's not like the others are sitting around sipping tea. They're busy too. He's barely accepted as it is. If he gets too inconvenient… ~~(They'll abandon him. He's gonna be alone again. Alone, _ALONE_ )~~

“Thomas! Shadow!” Something moved in the corner of the shadowed room, Virgil urging Thomas to study the darkness for any hint of threat. There's nothing there, but it's already too late, the burst of energy prompted by his shout is sinking deep into their muscles. 

No. Oh no…

Normally,their new normally, where Virgil was accepted, was listened to; ~~(It won't last. It can't last. _They don't need him_ )~~ this would barely be a bump in the road. Virgil would bring them someplace quiet, someplace safe, and they'd be able to relax. This is not a normal time.

Being so worn out, and apart from the other sides-- excluding Roman, who was _not helping_ with the suggestions of what was hiding in the shadows-- and a full scale panic attack is digging its way through their system. Heart sounding loudly in their ears, hands both cold and sweaty. 

Water… Thomas needs water. Sometimes, the shock of it, cold and clear, is enough to pull them from the brink. 

But. No. 

It's not helping. It's making everything worse. They swallow wrong, and that bare second of terror as water slips down the wrong pipe is their undoing. Together, Virgil desperately trying to get a hold of the situation long enough to get Thomas somewhere safe, why is there nowhere safe?, where is ** _safe!?_** ~~(There is no safe, there is only cold and dark and _dangerous_ )~~ and Thomas coughing, they somehow manage to secure a ride home. Uber. Or something. Thomas can get his car later. Its safe, keys in pocket, triple locked, and they aren't far. There's just not enough energy to worry about that too. Not when their chest is tight, not when his eyes keep watering and Virgil can't _see!_ He's in near full control, Roman confused at the sudden stop to his fun, and the words Virgil knows he's saying, voice deepened and the shadows of the mindscape curling around his shoulders like a hug he would reject in this moment. Thomas, the awareness of how his personalities interact, seems stunned as well. He just keeps touching his clothing, trying to ground himself while Virgil acts like a miniaturized whirlwind, throwing locks in their apartment, shutting curtains, turning his phone on silent. Nothing is going to enter, Virgil _will not _allow anything to happen to Thomas, and to the other three who he is so used to now. ~~(Maybe if he's _Good_ enough, they'll tolerate him for longer. Maybe he can be a part of something.) ~~ __

____

__

Being in the apartment, in familiar spaces, helps. But. Not enough. It's still too open, too large. ~~(Something is out there. It's coming. ** _It's coming_**.)~~

The bathrooms too cold ~~(Ice, hypothermia, death)~~ , though Virgil ensures Thomas has a bowl nearby incase everything is too much for their stomach. And the bed is too exposed ~~(Something is underneath, waiting to grab him, drag them down)~~. Only once Virgil finally gives in and allows it, crawling into the closet and encasing the body in complete and utter darkness, does their breath calm. 

It takes a long time, adrenaline coursing in their veins, but eventually, Thomas is sleeping. 

Roman is sleeping. Virgil can…

Virgil can rest. 

He did his job. 

They're safe.

He can rest.

  


Morning comes early in the mindscape. Virgil is too tired to actually open his eyes, much less see where all the others are, but one of the others had come by. He's out of the closet, laid comfortably on the couch, a weighted blanket over his head and his headphones a comfortable weight over his ears, some white noise mix. Typing, steady and regular, a soft piano melody on repeat, a heartbeat on the verge of sleep. All good, calming things. 

There's no one around, from what he can sense with his eyes still shut, and buried under both the blanket and his hoodie, but there is a tempting smell nearby. Something cooking, rich and sweet. 

It's almost worth the energy it takes to crack open his eyes, looking at the dark stitched fabric covering his head. It's a familiar sight, though less so now that Thomas understands him a little more and is actively attempting to listen to him, rather than merely suppressing the anxiety all the time. The compromise has been working, and now there are barely any times where Virgil works himself to unconsciousness, Thomas disassociating as Virgil is forced to rest and Patton is busy worrying over Virgil instead of doing his own job in the mindscape. 

Today, however, there's a small slip of paper poking out of the lightest corner. Something for him?

Carefully, Virgil moves the bare minimum in order to brush against the paper with the very tips of his fingers. It's surprisingly soft, and heavy. It must be from Roman, then, parchment. But the words, and he doesn't yet read them, are in Logan's heavy block print. With a crayon scribble from Patton at the bottom? This is… confusing. Those three only work together if its something big, or if Virgil spends all his time making them angry enough at him so they have to work together, if only to gang up on him. 

_ ‘Virgil-- We have reviewed the memories of what happened both last night and for the past few weeks. You are clearly overworking yourself. As such, it would be wise for you to do your breathing exercises under your blanket and take a day of rest. When you are ready, please feel free to come out of your nest and join both myself and these other insufferable morons. \-- You know who this is.’ _

That was… unexpected. It was, if you translated it into normal human speak, almost like Logan was concerned for Virgil. And that just couldn't be right. Yes, the logical side was willing to admit Virgil was a decent debater, and maybe they did get along fairly well… But Virgil had caused them trouble last night, had acted irrationally. Logan surely wouldn't attempt to comfort him after that, right? 

Pushing the uneasy thought away, he's already done enough panicking last night, he finds the other note, Pattons happy scrawl. 

_ ‘Heya kiddo! You gave us all quite a scare last night. It's been a while since we've seen you like that! But Roman said you used to do this a lot, after Thomas posted a video? And Logan said you gave him the passcode to your phone. Take your time under there, kiddo, when you want to, your old pops is going to make some POPovers for you. Remember the most important part of famILY-- Dad guy’  _

Almost against his will, Virgil feels his lips twitch up into a smile. Patton was a character, but he was so cheerful it was hard not to enjoy his company. He wouldn't lie either, so they must have been frightened.

It's the least he could do, then, to pull the covers down just enough to look out into the room. Someone had pulled the curtains, it was shadowy, another comforting detail. 

He's the only occupant of the couch, but the others are nearby, Roman in the corner lip syncing what's likely a Disney song; Logan just in front of him, a large puzzle spread out on the coffee table, neatly organized into colors; and Patton's just barely visible in the kitchen, dog themed apron around his waist as he dashed back and forth, creating whatever was smelling so good. It's a good feeling, knowing the others are around, are safe. It's better when Logan turns his head slightly, just enough to offer a greeting nod before turning back to the puzzle, snapping a piece into place with a satisfied little smile. 

That single motion eases the slightest stirring of unease. He's welcome here, to join or not as his discretion. He doesn't need to take off his headphones, and that's what allows him to do so. 

“Lo?”  Was that his voice? Rough and scratchy? How anxious was he last night, how long was he screaming in that attention demanding growl?

“Hello, Virgil. Puzzle?” He gestures to the puzzle, inviting Virgil down to his level. The pieces are peaceful, separated into their own colors, and the exterior of the puzzle already done. There's only a moment of surprise until Virgil realizes that it's all purpose. Both of those things, the chaotic mix of colors and inability to find a starting point, have been smoothed away before he even realized it may be a problem. 

“Logan, you…?” 

“Like I said. You've been overworking yourself. It's inefficient, and many of the things that calm you also hold elements that make you uneasy again. We took care of those.” It's hard to know how he feels about that. On one hand, the other sides seeing him, knowing him well enough to avoid problems is terrifying. But on the other… it's nice. He doesn't need to worry as much, not when he can just start picking out the pieces, laying them in their rightful place with a satisfying snap. 

Somewhere, over in the corner by Roman, songs creep into the air. Calming, even by Virgil's high standards, and Roman seems to agree, laying on his stomach and coloring in a large book. Disney Mandalas, it looks like. 

The puzzle is just about finished, a small smile lingering on his face as the last piece settles into place and Logan allows a rare smile of his own. 

“Would you like to color with Roman some? Or, i will be starting another puzzle. Either way is fine, we are all doing activities we would be doing anyway.” Virgil shrugs, but that _looks_ an awful lot like a Tim Burton coloring book, and there's both crayons and colored pencils laid in neat rows, all sharp and all neatly lined up, colors merging near seamlessly. 

“You sure?” The more he looks, the more he wants. Logan merely hums, nodding and setting the completed puzzle to the side, summoning another. 

“I am certain. You can come back at any time you wish to as well.” For the side that claimed to be heartless and loath feelings, Logan was quite perceptive of what Virgil may be fearing. It… sways Virgil into thinking this whole “relying on others, trusting others” may not be his worst idea ever. 

So, he stands, keeping the weighted blanket like a cape around his shoulders. It makes it easier to walk over to Roman, pausing when the prince looks up near instantly.

“Salutations!” Roman doesnt bother standing, grinning up from where he's laying, uncaring if his princely suit gets wrinkled from the ground. Up and behind him, his feet are bare and crossed at the ankles, twitching with his pleasure and concentration. “Come down, Jason Todd-ler. I've been practicing that technique you imparted, adding the shadows? I didn't think it could get better, but I've surprised myself yet again!” 

“You sure? You always draw the princes like they're standing in a sunbeam.” The criticism almost makes him freeze again, he was kidding but-- There's no harm done, Roman laying down his crayon and grinning when he tries to scowl. 

“Because they deserve to be!” And Virgil is laughing. Easily. Not forced in the slightest. It shocks him, but it feels too good to stop, and so he laughs again, a little louder when Romans slightly huskier one joins along. 

“Okay then, I thought you’d be forced to Let It Go by this point.” Referencing Disney was just the thing to do. It sparks an easy dialog between the two, Virgil barely noticing when he lies down, grabbing a few large floor pillows to prop his chest up, the perfect height for coloring. 

They're so deep in a conversation, Patton comes by without so much as the two stirring, settling a few dishes of finger food out for all three of them. Virgil only comes out of it when Patton gently ruffles his purple dyed hair, smiling softly. 

“Heya, kiddos. Food's almost ready, are you at a place where you can stop?” He's wearing the cat onesie, and it's so soft looking Virgil instantly want to be wearing one as well. It only takes a moment of concentration, but he's in one of the Halloween themed onesies, made incredibly soft and breathable, it still hangs loose and comfortable over his form, complete with a hood he pushes away.

“Howl-ly canine, Virgil.” 

“That was a pun, wasn't it.” and he still smiles. The smile doesn't fade all through the supper Patton provided, nor does it fall as he starts to yawn, laying down against Patton and letting a sigh of utter contentment free as the dad like side starts to run fingers through his hair.

There's hard times in the future. But for once Virgil doesn't care. He's safe, surrounded by those he cares about.

Everything else can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... hit a roadblock with AABB, will be up next sat


End file.
